Perdition (Dred Chronicles 1)

“I imagine not.” That answer sent a pang through him. What he’d lived and suffered, it was history to her, and she didn’t even remember the project name. Just another example how out of step he was, how he could never fit. “Naturally, once they started generating credits with the primary program, they saw other uses for the gene therapy and DNA shaping.”

“Like what?”

“Military applications,” he said, thinking she should know that.

But maybe she’d learned her combat skills inside. Surviving meant she was a quick study, not that she had professional training. Her father had been a scientist, as he recalled, a refugee from Farwan; he didn’t think she’d mentioned anything about her mother. Odd he would remember a casual conversation with such clarity, or that she would remember the joke he’d made, days later.

Hm.

Determined to lay it out for her, Jael went on, “The Corp used the profits from creating these custom children to fund the Ideal Genome Project. Forget antiaging treatments—they intended to develop bodies that didn’t decay or suffer from illness and required reduced amounts of rest.”

“You don’t sleep?” It was interesting that was what she focused on.

“I enjoy it, but I need it less than you do. I can get by with two hours a night though my reaction and regenerative abilities diminish the more exhausted I become.” Jael shrugged. “This wasn’t the first experiment along these lines. Governments have been trying to perfect the supersoldier for years.”

“And that’s you?” she asked quietly.

He tilted his head back, unable to summon the mocking laughter that would strip the question of its barbs. “Not even close.”

“So you were created in a lab, then.” Her neutral tone gave no sign as to what she thought about that, but he could guess. “There must have been others.”

“Most subjects died before reaching maturity,” he answered. “The Corp ‘officially’ shut the program down after religious outcry. But there are always hidden labs where the experiments continue, no matter what the public believes. See, the scientists needed to discover how strong we were and whether we were docile enough to be deployed in battle.”

“You say ‘we’ . . . so you weren’t alone?”

Jael’s first memory came wrapped in pain: wires, tubes, translucent skin, floating in a glass vessel. Here and now, turns later, that genesis period remained vague; and it was for the best. Upon his “birth,” he’d undergone an awful number of procedures and experiments to test his capacity for pain, healing, and recovery. A small pod of subjects, Jael included, received rudimentary combat training, education, and social interaction. The lab techs were . . . curious.

Why does JL489 survive when its sibling, created from an identical embryo, crashed and burned during the last phase of DNA shaping?

Jael had survived that first wave of experimentation. Eventually, most of his pod was designated as flawed and destroyed. In time, Farwan decreed the secret research too expensive to continue, and when Corp security personnel came to clean the labs of the remaining survivors, they’d fought and fled. The basic education he received from the Corp permitted him to get work as a merc, even though, emotionally, he was little more than a child.

The turns were not kind thereafter.

He broke from reverie to answer her question in a hoarse tone. “Yes, there were others. Twenty of us escaped. I don’t know if any of them are still alive.”

“You didn’t stick together or remain in contact?”

Jael laughed quietly, though the sound contained an angry edge. “Does traveling as a collective freak show seem like the wisest way to stay out of enemy hands?”

“Probably not. And you wanted to forget where you came from, I imagine. Try to blend.”

Truer than you know, princess.

“That’s not an easy task when you’re . . . like this.”

“If you weren’t like this, we wouldn’t be prepping for war with the best gear Queensland’s ever had. We’d be scared and hopeless with our backs to the wall, facing better weapons, more soldiers. I realize we’re only a bunch of wretches and convicts, but you’re the closest thing to a hero we’ve ever seen.”

“As pep talks go, that was pathetic.” But he was smiling; and he couldn’t remember the last time it hadn’t felt like cuts carved into his cheeks, wholly false, wholly for show. This time, he felt it. Knew his sincerity must show in his eyes. It alarmed him though he couldn’t control it.

Dred lifted a shoulder, apparently unconcerned by his criticism. “It’s the best I could do on short notice. This whole Dread Queen business is all rubbish, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.”

“You seem plenty tough to me. And the men believe in you. That’s all that matters.” He hesitated, then added, “If you win their hearts and minds, the bodies follow. They’ll do impossible things because they believe in your legend and want to live up to it. You’re the woman who can accomplish the impossible, raid unreachable locales, and read their minds.”

“Careful,” she said sharply. “You’re being kind. We discussed my objection to that.”

“I’m not, actually. I’m being honest. It’s rare enough that I understand why you’d be confused, though.” The fragile smile persisted; he couldn’t kill it or drive it away.

Nothing had changed that he could detect. Not her expression or manner. Not her scent, as if she were secretly frightened of him. Then, inwardly he scoffed at the notion. Dred was as fierce and dangerous a woman as he’d encountered. And she didn’t frighten easily.

“Thanks for the explanation.” She folded to her feet, obviously ready to conclude the interview.

Jael found he didn’t want to leave. That was a . . . unique development.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I ended up in here?”

Dred shook her head. “I needed to understand why you’re nearly fragging indestructible so I can best deploy that aptitude. Beyond that, it’s your business.”

“No curiosity?”

She read him like a book. “Look, if you want to tell me, if it’ll put you at ease to treat me like a holy confessor, go for it.”

“There’s nothing holy about you, queenie, but you sure are divine.”

The woman laughed, falling back into her chair with a graceful motion. “Were you expecting some particular payout with that line? You have my undivided attention. Explain how you ended up on the prison transport.”